My grandfather’s surgery has been moved to later in January. My mom had him write out a will, she’s pretty convinced it could be the end. Losing him right now might break me beyond repair. God willing, it’ll go well and I’ll get a few more years with him. Saw my dad’s doctor again. He didn’t boost up the Prozac like I was hoping he would, but prescribed something else and gave me a list of psychiatrists to call, which I guess I’ll do on my next day off. The obsessiveness is still circling like a vulture in my head. I had a rousing flu the last few days which had me expelling stuff I ate in third grade, so that was fucking fun. I’m back at work now, stressed as usual. I had a row my brother because I guess that he felt that vomiting and shitting at the same time weren’t sufficient reason for me to monopolize the restroom, and my uncle really went off on my when I confessed that my brother had called me earlier convinced that I was shcidial, and gave me a rather vicious talking to about how I don’t consider the effect I can have on others with my feelings. I get it, but thought it was NOT a good way of approaching things. Anyway, I’m back at work. Oh, yay. My dad and my brother both lost their jobs, and they’re revoking my holiday pay for being Sick.